Thinking about leaving the Army??……
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- Here is a handy 12 Step Program that may assist your transition: I am in the military, I have problems. This acknowledgment is the first step to recovery...
- Speech: Civvy time does not begin with a zero or end in a hundred, ie It is not "zero five three zero" or "fourteen hundred" it is "five thirty" or "two o'clock".
Words like "deck", "farter", and "PT" will get you strange looks; use their proper names eg floor, bed, workout, .
"F*ck" should not be used to replace whatever word you can't think of right now, try "umm".
Grunting is not communicating,
It's a phone, not a radio, conversations on a phone do not follow a set procedure and do not end in "out".
- Style: Do not put creases in your jeans or on the front of your dress shirts.
Do not iron your collar flat.
A hat indoors does not make you a bad person
You do not have to wear a belt ALL the time.
- Women: Not all women like to take orders and most will probably punch you in the nuts if you treat them like one of your diggers .
Being divorced twice by the time you are 25 is not normal, neither are 6 month marriages, even if it is your first.
- Personal accomplishments: In the real world, being able to do lots of push-ups will not make you good at your job.
You will disturb most people if you tell them about people you have seen die.
How much pain you can take is not seen as a personal accomplishment.
- Drinking: That time you drank a full slab of beer and peed in your wardrobe is not a good conversation starter.
That time you went to the combat survival school and practiced giving vodka IV's will also not be a good conversation point .
- Bodily functions: Farting on your co-workers and then giggling while you run away may be viewed as "childish".
The size of the dump you took yesterday will not be funny no matter how big it was, how much it burned, or how much it stunk .
Don’t make fun of someone for being sick, no matter how funny it is.
Getting VD or passing it on will also not be funny.
- The human body: Most people will not want to hear about your nuts, their size, whether they itch, how they fit into your jocks….odd as that may seem, it's true.
- Spending habits: One day, you will have to pay bills.
Buying a $60,000 car on a $35,000 a year salary is a really bad idea.
One day you will need health insurance.
- Interacting with civilians:Making fun of your neighbour to his face for being fat will not be acceptable .
- Real jobs in Civvy Street: They really can fire you.
On the flip side you really can quit.
Screaming at the people that work for you will not be normal, remember they really can quit too.
Taking long smokos will not be acceptable.
Remember it’s 9-5 not 0530 to 1800.
- The Law: “Contact counselling “ is not condoned .
Your workplace, unlike your command can't save you and probably won't, in fact most likely you will be fired about 5 minutes after they find out you've been arrested.
Fighting is not a normal thing and will get you really arrested, not yelled at before they ask you if you won.
- General knowledge: You can in fact really say what you think about the Prime Minister in public.
Pain is not weakness leaving the body, it's just pain.
People don't wear anything shiny that tells you they are more important then you are, be polite to all.
And Lastly.... Read contracts before you sign them, remember what happened the first time……..
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Military Language Conversion Chart |
| NAVY |
ARMY |
AIR FORCE |
| Heads |
Latrine |
Powder Room |
| Rack |
Bunk / Farter |
Queen bed electric blanket & doona |
| Cafe / SCRAN Hall |
Mess / Mess Tent |
Dining Facility |
| Pussers Cook |
Cook / Fitter & Turner |
Contract Chef |
| Brew |
Brew |
Vanilla Skim Latte' with a bickie |
| Limers / Goffa |
Goffa/ jebwby juice (can of coke/cordial) |
Shirley Temple |
| W9's/Coveralls |
Cams /DPCUs |
Casual Attire |
| Seaman |
Private |
Bobby / Jimmy |
| Chief |
WO2 |
Timothy / Justin |
| Captain |
Colonel |
Rupert / James |
| The Table(chooks) |
Article 15 |
Time Out |
| Mess/Onboard |
Barracks |
Self contained Apartment |
| Durps/Trolleys |
Underwear |
Knickers |
| Cells |
Piss Can |
Grounded |
| Cero's |
Pollys |
Armani Suit |
| Lid / Cap |
Beret/Head Gear/ Slouch |
Optional |
| AFT Stores |
Q Store |
Westfield Shopping Mall |
| Hammered |
Pissed |
Oops. little tipsy.. |
| Deployment/ Detachment |
Deploy / Ops / Bush / Scrub / Field |
Huh? |
| Runners |
Runners |
Moccasin's |
| Die for your Country |
Die for your Mate |
Die for Air Conditioning |
| Shipmate/Oppo/Besty |
Mate/digger |
Honey/Babe/Pookie |
| Terminate / Contact |
Take Out |
Back on Base for Nuck Night |
| Boiler Boots |
Jump Boots / GPs |
Ugg Boots |
| Pussers Sandals |
JC Sandals |
Patent Leather Stilettos |
| SEAL |
SAS |
Librarian |
| Shore Patrol |
MPs |
Chaperone's |
| Oouh-Rah! |
Hoo-ah! |
Hip-Hip hurray! Jolly Good old Chap |
| Hot Packs |
Rat Packs |
Al a Carte |
| Throw a Goffa |
Salute / Chuck a Boxer |
Wave |
| Obstacle Course |
Obs Course |
Typing Course |
| Parade Drill/Parade Ground |
Drill Practice/Parade Ground |
What? |
| Canteen |
AAFCANS / |
McHappy Meal |
| RANPFT |
PT / BFA |
Smoko / Ping Pong Comps |
| Chief Swain |
RSM |
OIC Cuddles |
| Midshipman |
Officer Cadet |
Debutant |
| Jack Tar |
AJ |
RAAFY Chappy |
Best 'Dear John' Letter Ever ! |
A Marine stationed in Afghanistan recently received a "Dear John" letter from his girlfriend back home. It read as follows:
Dear Ricky,
I can no longer continue our relationship. The distance between us is just too great. I must admit that I have cheated on you twice, since you've been gone, and it s not fair to either of us. I'm sorry. Please return the picture of me that I sent to you.
Love,
Becky
The Marine, with hurt feelings, asked his fellow Marines for any snapshots they could spare of their girlfriends, sisters, ex-girlfriends, aunts, cousins etc. In addition to the picture of Becky, Ricky included all the other pictures of the pretty gals he had collected from his buddies. There were 57 photos in that envelope....along with this note
Dear Becky,
I'm so sorry, but I can't quite remember who the f**k you are. Please take your picture from the pile, and send the rest back to me.
Take Care,
Ricky |
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The train was quite crowded, so a U. S. Marine walked the entire length looking for a seat, but the only seat left was taken by a well dressed, middle-aged, French woman's poodle.
The war-weary Marine asked, "Ma'am, may I have that seat?"
The French woman just sniffed and said to no one in particular, "Americans are so rude. My little Fifi is using that seat."
The Marine walked the entire train again, but the only seat left was under that dog.
"Please, ma'am. May I sit down? I'm very tired."
She snorted, "Not only are you Americans rude, you are also arrogant!"
This time the Marine didn't say a word; he just picked up the little dog, tossed it out the train window, and sat down. The woman shrieked, "Someone must defend my honour! Put this American in his place!"
An English gentleman sitting nearby spoke up, "Sir, you Americans seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You hold the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your autos on the wrong side of the road. And now sir, you seem to have thrown the wrong bitch out the window." |
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Stoker Humour |
In a train carriage there was a Lower Level Stoker, an Army Major, a spectacular looking blonde and a frightfully awful looking fat lady.
After several minutes of the trip the train happens to pass through a dark tunnel, and the unmistakable sound of a slap is heard.
When they leave the tunnel, the Army Major had a big red slap mark on his cheek.
1) The blonde thought - "That Soldier son of a bitch wanted to touch me and by mistake, he must have put his hand on the fat lady, who in turn must have slapped his face."
2) The fat lady thought - "This dirty old Army Major laid his hands on the blonde and she smacked him."
3) The Army Major thought - "That Stoker put his hand on that blonde and by mistake she slapped me."
4) The Stoker thought - "I hope there's another tunnel soon so I can smack that Army Major again.
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Naval Aviator: On a carrier, the Naval Aviator looks over at the Catapult Officer ("Shooter") who gives the run up engines signal by rotating his finger above his head.. The pilot pushes the throttle forward, verifies all flight controls are operational, checks all gauges, and gives the Cat officer a brisk salute, continuing the Navy / Marine tradition of asking permission to leave the ship. The Cat officer drops to one knee while swooping his arm forward and pointing down deck, granting that permission. The pilot is immediately catapulted and becomes airborne.
Air Force Pilot: We've all seen Air Force pilots at the air force base look up just before taxiing for takeoff and the ground crew waits until the pilot's thumb is sticking straight up. The crew chief then confirms that he sees the thumb, salutes, and the Air Force pilot then takes off. This time-tested tradition is the last link in the Air Force safety net to confirm that the pilot does not have his thumb up his ass.
Army Aviator: If you've ever seen an Army helicopter pilot preparing for takeoff, you will note that the pilot gives the ground guy a thumbs up before he is given hover and takeoff signals. There are two theories about the origin of this gesture. One is that it is to show that the pilot has identified which of his fingers is the thumb so that he will be able to properly operate his controls. The most compelling theory says that this is to show the ground crewman that the pilot indeed knows which direction is up. |
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Canadian & US Navy
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Actual Radio Conversation
This was a conversation between a US Naval ship and Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland in late 1995.
Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.
Canadians: No, I say again, you divert YOUR course.
Americans: This is the Aircraft Carrier US LINCOLN, the second largest ship in the United States Atlantic Fleet. We are accompanied with three Destroyers, three Cruisers and numerous support vessels. I DEMAND that you change your course 15 degrees north. I say again, that's one-five degrees north, or counter-measures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call !? |
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The Australian Army !
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Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone!
I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!
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At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!
This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of piss!! You don't even load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the 'roo' shooting truck when you reload!
Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is.
Your loving daughter,
Sheila |
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